Hidden Scars: Sequel to Love is a Joke
by MissBroadway91
Summary: After 18 years, the Joker arises from Arkham to take his revenge on the woman who broke his heart by destroying the one thing she hold closest to her heart; her daughter.
1. Epilogue

Everything was quite that night. Hardly anyone inhabited the usually busy Gotham streets; everyone had gone home from their jobs to join their families. It was the perfect night for a robbery.

A black van, followed by a fancy black Mercedes-Benz, pulled up quietly beside the back entrance to the Gotham City National Bank. From the van, four men wearing black ski masks arose, each carrying pistols by their side and various pieces of technology in their hands. They headed towards the entrance and placed their weapons against the door. Each piece, shaped like a large gun, had a small dial on its top and a small trigger near the bottom. The men lined up, each placing their weapons on top of the other, turned their dials to the same position, and simultaneously pulled the triggers; causing the bolted door to snap into an unlocked position.

No alarm was sounded. The thieves entered into the abandoned bank with great ease. As they raced towards the vault, another man stepped out from the black Mercedes. He was a very thin man; his tall, gangly manner made him stand out above the rest. Unlike the other thieves, this man was wearing everything that went against proper robbery-attire. He wore black dress shoes, green pin-striped pants, and an open, matching dress coat with no undershirt. A similar green-colored bowler hat hid the top of his red, neck-length hair, and a pair of dark sunglasses hid his eyes. Though all of his costume was greatly extravagant, the most noticeable part of his outfit was the large, purple question mark tattooed on his stomach.

The tall man followed his counterparts into the bank; a slender cane with a question mark emblem at its top assisted him in his walk. Although he had no trouble on his feet, the cane gave off some sort of majestic and sophisticated feels towards everyone he encountered. Once he had caught up with his men, they had again begun the process of using their weapons to break into the vault undetected. The man rubbed his hands together and laughed under his breath as he imagined hold the vaults contents in his hands and spending his riches on treasures and all sorts of destructive things that would make Gotham fall to its knees before him. The loud clang of the vault unlocking filled the room and made him jumped; not out of fright, but of sheer delight.

Two of ski-masked robbers dropped their weapons and reached for the vault door. Each man inside the bank waited impatiently for the chance to swipe whatever the vault had to offer them. Once the door was open, the men, especially their leader, stood in shock of what they saw. The vault was completely empty. "We've been tricked, boss!" cried the henchmen. "It's a trap!"

The leader of the back gripped his cane tightly out of anger as a grimace expression replaced the once excited features in his face. "Riddle me this, riddle me that," he scowled. "Who else here smells a big, fat _bat_?" Without changing his facial appearance, the man turned around, knowing that his arch enemy would be standing behind him. Sure enough, the nightmare of every criminal in Gotham City slowly arose from the shadows; his eyes glowed from his black mask, his cape covering his whole body. As he inched towards the robbers, many of them stepped back as though they were trying their best to avoid him. However, the leader did not move from his spot as he lowered his cane, seemingly unafraid to the approaching Dark Knight.

"You sure know how to ruin a party, don't you?" asked the tall man sarcastically.

"I don't classify a robbery as a party," replied the vigilante, still creeping towards his target like a lion ready to pounce.

"Listen, since I'm fairly new to this whole scene, let's say we forget this whole ordeal and you through me a 'Get Out Of Jail Free' car? Sounds like a plan to me! What about you, Batman?"

"It doesn't work like that. You must be new, seeing as though you picked one of the most predictable spots for a criminal like yourself to spend their Friday nights…"

"Riddler. They call me the Riddler. And if you must know why I chose this particular spot, I'll tell you. You see, I find vaults, such this one right here, are some of the greatest riddles of all. This one especially. So many combinations, so many possible answers; but in the end, there is only one definite solution. Don't you find puzzles like this absolutely fascinating?"

"Not when it's illegal."

"Oh, I see. You just don't like to have any fun. If that's the case, then I guess there's no more use for our senseless chatter, is there? Boys!"

With the snap of his fingers, the henchmen hiding behind the Riddler jumped to their feet, guns in hand, and began firing at their target. Batman quickly ducked to the ground and rose up his cape to where it would shield his body, head to toe, from the bullets. As he heard the sounds of guns in need of reloading, Batman again came to his feet and raced towards the henchmen. His fists ferociously attacked his enemies, sending them flying to the floor or into the wall. At one point, a henchman tried attacking him from behind; jumping onto his back as his arms clasped around Batman's neck in an attempt to suffocate him. It didn't take long, however, for the Dark Knight to shake him off and kick him to the ground. In no time, every single one to the henchmen was lying on the floor, unconscious.

Batman frantically looked around for the Riddler, hoping he was still near. He heard footsteps heading towards the back door of the bank, and he was soon fast behind them. Once he had reached the back entrance, it was too late. In front of him, the black Mercedes had just begun its journey from the alley way and into the main street. Before the car was out of sight, the image of the Riddler could be seen popping out from the sunroof with his hands stretched out wide from his body. "Until we meet again, Batman!" he yelled from the car, bowing at his opponent.

He watched the car fade into the night. It wouldn't be the last time they would meet, but Batman was still disappointed in himself for not catching him the first time. Lately, he and his alter ego had so much on their minds. It seemed as if every day since the last encounter he had had with the Joker, a new villain had popped up, more than willing to take his place as he rotted away in Arkham Asylum. One right after the other, they appeared as if out of no wear; each with a different and unique characteristics and specialties. It had almost become too much for just one masked crime fighter. But somehow, Batman had been able to manage alone.

As Batman headed back inside of the bank to inspect the damage and to wait for Commissioner Gordon to arrive, a small alarm from his belt began to go off. He looked down to see a small, red light begin to flash from a packet on the side of his belt. "Lyla!" he murmured. Without taking a second to think, Batman raced home to his wife.

******************************

Bruce rushed through the hospital doors. His forehead and palms were sweating profusely; not because he was tired from running or from his latest battle, but because he was extremely nervous. Was she alright? Was he too late? These questions ran through his mind as the nurse pointed him in the direction of Lyla's location. He ran to the elevators, presses the "up" button ten times in a row, hoping it would speed the elevator's movement, and stepped inside. The soft jazz music playing throughout the tiny space couldn't calm Bruce's nerves down at a time like this.

Once the elevator doors, Bruce bolted towards Lyla's room, almost knocking a nurse to the ground. Nothing could stop him from being by his wife's side at a time like this. Finally, he saw her room number. Bruce swung open the door and gazed inside, completely out of breath. Waiting for him in the hospital was Lyla. In her hands was their new baby.

"It's a girl!" Lyla said with such excitement. Bruce smiled widely at the news. Lyla smiled back. To Bruce's delight, she did not seem in the least bit mad that he had not been there for the birth. Lyla knew the reason, and understood that Gotham had called him to work. She watched as Bruce gazed at the tiny bundle in her hands, then back at her. Her hair was a mess and her brow trickled with sweat from the delivery. But to Bruce, she had never been so beautiful. He entered the room, came to his wife's bedside, and gently kissed her forehead. Lyla looked back down to her newborn daughter. "Say hello to Daddy."

Lyla passed the baby into Bruce's muscular arms. It felt so strange to him to hold something so small. He felt that at any moment he could crush her in two. With extra-special care, he walked around the room, bouncing the bundle tenderly. "What did you decide to name her?"

"I thought we would determine that once you got here."

"Lyla, I'm sorry I was…"

"Bruce, don't worry. You're here now, and that's all that matters. So, what shall we name her?"

"Hmmm, what do you think about Jane?"

"Jane?" Lyla paused. After a few seconds, she looked back at Bruce and smiled. "I like it!" Bruce smiled again and went back to his wife's side. Unfortunately, once he had arrived, the smile from Lyla's face had disappeared. She turned her attention towards the nurse who was also occupying the room. "Excuse us," she called. "Can you give us a moment?" The nurse nodded and left the room, closing the door behind her.

"Lyla, what is it?" Bruce asked, handing Baby Jane back into her arms. Lyla was silent as she looked down at her daughter. Never in her life had she felt this way towards another human being. She loved her child from the first moment she saw her, but she also gained the knowledge that she was completely responsible for this tiny, living thing. Lyla had to do anything to keep her safe; even if it meant hiding the truth from her.

"Bruce, promise me something?" she asked, choking on her words.

"Anything."

"Promise me we will never tell her about… _him_."

"Lyla, we already agreed that we wouldn't tell her about my alter e…"

"No, I know that."

"Then who? Who aren't we telling her about?" Lyla remained silent, still staring at the newborn. Bruce suddenly realized who she was talking about. "Lyla, it will be hard."

"I know that, Bruce. But I don't want her to live in fear. Not like I am…did"

"Alright, Lyla. We won't tell her. But I don't want us to feel like we're hiding everything from our daughter."

"We aren't, Bruce. I just want what's best for her. _I want her to live a life without the Joker_."


	2. Chapter 1

"Jane! It's time to get up!"

Jane heard Alfred call her name from outside her bedroom door, but tried her hardest to ignore him. It was Friday, the last day of school for the week. Being a senior in high school, and having suffered for so many years, she believed she deserved at least one day of hooky. Her bed felt so warm and inviting; whispering to her ideas of falling back to sleep and continue her dreaming. Unfortunately, Alfred had other plans.

Alfred opened the door to Jane's room, uninvited, and pulled the covers off of her body. Jane shivered as the cold of that January morning caressed the skin not secured by her pajamas. "Jane, your mother would be furious if she saw that you were still in bed," he exclaimed.

"Alright, Alfred, you win," she called back to him with her eyes still closed. "I'm up." She sat up and rubbed her eyes. Unwrapping herself from her covers, Jane slowly meet her feet with the ground and stood up to face the window. Outside, the sun shone unusually bright onto the city pavement. This unusual weather for Gotham City made the torture of going to school even worse. The sun seemed to mock her as she moved towards her closet; searching for the perfect outfit. For the richest girl in the city, she always surprised herself with her incapability to find anything to wear.

For Jane, it seemed like everyday was the same. She got up, went to school, and then came home. Each day was the same routine. While most people believed the heiress to the Wayne fortune would be living her life on the edge and would use her daddy's money to get everything. But, surprisingly, everyone kept her on a tight leash; Alfred, her mother, Lyla, and her father, Bruce Wayne. She was never allowed out of the house alone, and she always had to have her phone by her side at all times. Jane understood that, being Gotham's very own "princess," security had to be tight.

After brushing her teeth, straightening her hair, and dressing in her plaid school uniform, she walked slowly to the window and stared out again into the sky. She wanted to badly to get the day over with. She hated going through each boring day as the sun burned onto the city pavement. Jane was a night owl. For her, it seemed as if time moved slower each time she wished to be back in her bed; dreaming of another life other than her own. She dreamt of a world of adventure and excitement; where she could walk the streets at night by herself, where everyday didn't consist of the same routine, where no one knew her name.

However boring Jane's life seemed to be, today was going to be different. She could feel change running through her at an alarming pace. Smiling as she thought of what the day might hold, she turned from the window, grabbed her book-bag, and took a deep breath. Today was the first day of the rest of her life. Today, everything was going to change. Today was her 18th birthday.

Entering the kitchen, Jane saw Alfred fixing breakfast and her mother, Lyla, sitting at the counter watching the morning news. Beside her on the table was a small box wrapped in shiny, birthday-themed paper with a bow resting on its top. Noticing her daughter's presence, Lyla jumped from her chair and rushed to Jane's side. "Happy Birthday, sweetheart!" she exclaimed, kissing Jane on her forehead. Lyla's silk robe rubbed against Jane's arms as she hugged her tightly. Once she had released Jane, she stepped back and looked her daughter up and down. "Look at you. 18 years old! It seems like only yesterday you were just a tiny baby."

"Mom," exclaimed Jane, "Please spare me!" Jane sat down at the kitchen bar and slid her book bag underneath her feet as Alfred brought her a plate of sausage and eggs. Jane smiled a 'thank you' to Alfred, and then began to consume her breakfast. Before the first bite of scrambled egg could reach her lips, Jane spotted a small package wrapped in shinny paper sitting on the bar. She looked up to her mother and saw her eager eyes staring back at her. Lyla nodded towards the box, insisting Jane to open it. Dropping her fork, Jane reached over and grabbed the package, ripped off the immaculately wrapped paper, and opened the box. Inside, was a brand new Nikon digital camera.

"Mom, it's perfect!" Jane exclaimed as she rose from her chair to embrace her mother.

"I knew it's what you wanted," she replied. "You know, this is the same type of camera we use at the paper."

Since Jane had been born, Lyla's life seemed to be getting better as each day goes by. She had been promoted from an entertainment writer to new editor at the Gotham Times. Her colleague Deborah Cross had taken over as editor and chief after Mr. Turner had been arrested for his involvement with the mob and for attempted kidnapping. Each day, Lyla would come home to find her bright, intelligent daughter and her loving, devoted husband Bruce waiting for her with open arms. And even though Bruce's alter ego took him away from her each night, Lyla would always wake up next to him the next morning; still as much in love with her as when they first met.

Lyla sat down next to her daughter as Alfred whipped up another plate of sausage and eggs. The morning light shone brightly through the room's large windows; foreshadowing the occurrence of a pleasant winter's day. As Jane finished her breakfast, she noticed the absence of her father.

"Where's Dad?" she asked. "Doesn't he have to go into the office today?"

"Oh, well…." Lyla quickly tried to make up a reply to Jane's questions. "Um…your father doesn't feel very well this morning. He was up all night working on paperwork."

"Well, if he's going in today, he's going to be late. But then again, I guess it doesn't matter since he owns the whole company."

"That's true. But you mustn't forget, Jane. Your father has many responsibilities at the company and he treats himself like any other employee there. He also has been very stressed with the opening of the second Wayne Tower. This project has consumed him for the past year, and, now that it's finally being unveiled this afternoon, it's like a huge load is being lifted off his. Speaking of which, don't forget to come straight home after school to get ready for the opening."

"Ok, mom. Hey, can Grayson come?" Dick Grayson was Jane's boyfriend of two years. The two went to the same private school and had been inseparable ever since their first date. Jane and Grayson had been through almost everything together. They struggled through every test, every challenge, and every heartache with the other by their side. Jane was even there to hold Grayson's hand at his parents' funeral. Even though he was put into foster care, the Wayne's had taken him in as one of their own.

"I don't have a problem with that," replied Lyla. "Just let him know that this is a formal event. No jeans!"

"I'll tell him."

"And that goes for you too. I don't want to see…"

Suddenly Lyla cut her sentence short. She remained frozen in her seat, staring at the TV. Before Jane could turn around to see what had frightened her mother so, Lyla shouted out in panic. "Alfred, turn off the TV!" she commanded. Without hesitation, Alfred did as he was told. Relieved, Lyla buried her head in her hands.

"Mom, what's the matter?" Jane asked, reviewing her mother's fear-stricken face. For several seconds, Lyla said nothing. "Mom!"

Lyla slowly raised her head, revealing a string of tears sliding down her face. She tried to calm herself down before her daughter could see, but there was no hiding her distress. "Mom, what's going on?"

"Shouldn't you being on your way to school?" Lyla asked, her voice cracking as she held back more tears.

"I still have 15 minutes. Grayson won't even be downstairs yet. And I'm not leaving until you…"

"Jane, please! Just go!" Lyla was taken aback by her own harsh tone. Never in her life had she raised her voice to her daughter in that way. She stared at Jane's confused and terrified face, wishing she could make her understand her reasoning for yelling. Clearing her throat, Lyla tried to calm the intensity in the room. "Please, Jane, could you get an early start today? For me?" Jane said nothing, but continued to stare at her mother. Her expression of bewilderment soon turned to one of anger and hurt. She finally slid off her chair, grabbed her bookbag, and ran out the door. After she heard the door slam, Lyla rushed to the living room and turned on the TV. She slumped on the couch and watched in terror as a woman delivered the news.

"Good morning, Gotham, and thank you for tuning into Channel 5 News. I'm Sondra Lopez, bringing you some breaking news. We are now confirming reports of a break out at Arkham Asylum late last night. The criminal known only as the Joker escaped at approximately 2 am after an explosion erupted in the east wing of the hospital. Not much else is known about the break out, but it is rumored that the Joker has taken asylum doctor Harleen Quinzel as a hostage. We will fill you in as more details arise, but until then, stay tuned for more of your morning news."

Lyla buried her hands in her hand. Her past was finally catching up with her.

After the opening of Wayne Tower II, Bruce allowed Jane to go out with Grayson for her birthday. Her mother was horrified that he would allow her to do so when he very well knew that the Joker was running loose in Gotham, but Bruce was able to calm her nerves with the reassurance that Batman would never be too far away from her if she was ever in trouble. With much resistance, Lyla let Jane and Grayson go out to eat at Jane's favorite diner.

Once they were done with their dinner, Jane walked Grayson back to her home. The moon was, for just a minute, uncovered from the clouds; its beams shone down on the couple. Jane looked up towards the sky and noticed the perfect opportunity for a photo-op. She quickly tore her hand away from Grayson's, grabbed her new camera hanging around her neck, and focused in on her sweetheart.

"What are you doing?" he asked curiously.

Jane stopped Grayson as he continued to walk down the street. "Stand still!" she commanded. "The lighting is perfect!"

"Come on, Jane. Your mom will have the whole Gotham City Police force after me if I bring you home late."

"It will only take a second. Now, smile for me!"

Grayson rolled his eyes and smiled for the camera. The flash briefly blinded him, but came too when Jane rushed to his side to give him a thankful kiss. For a moment, the two stood still and looked into each other's eyes. Jane then through her arms around her love and kissed him passionately. Grayson happily embraced her took her into his arms.

"My hero," Jane whispered. Grayson smiled and continued his quest to take Jane home.

Still being carried by Grayson, Jane looked at the screen of the camera to take a glimpse at the photo she had just taken. His shaggy brunette hair looked gorgeous in the moonlight. The smile on his face seemed to express how in love the two of them were. After taking a second to notice Grayson's features, Jane noticed a black shadow standing behind him in the photo. In the alley where the picture had been standing stood a tall, dark figure in a purple trench coat. The shade had covered his face, but just the presence of him in the photo made Jane uneasy. She turned her head to see if anyone was following them, yet there was no one to be found. Tired, Jane assumed she was delirious from a busy day and the figure was just a part of her imagination. She rested her head in Grayson's chest and closed her eyes, trying to forget the strange figure in the picture.


End file.
